One Of These Days
by rachelquinn
Summary: Rachel tried everything and she was close to her breaking point. Quinn was frustratingly oblivious. Mild AU


**A/N: **So I know I'm supposed to be working on Blindsided - BUT I SWEAR I HAVE A LOT OF WORDS, but they're just not the _right _words. I'm working at it though and I promise I _will _finish that.

But anyway, here's a small project. A five-shot, if you will. Maybe six if I feel up for it.

* * *

**ONE OF THESE DAYS**

Summary: Rachel tried _everything_ and she was close to her breaking point. Quinn was oblivious. Mild AU

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: The Target**

Rachel glared at her reflection. She watched as a piece of ice slipped off her forehead and fell into the sink.

She figured that the first day of senior year would be different, after all, her tormentors should have been focused on making this the best year ever – starting with the first day of school.

She was sorely mistaken.

Upon entering the school, she was greeted with a double-dose of grape-flavoured big-gulp and while she found that she had developed a fondness for it through the years, she still did not appreciate having to bring out her emergency slushie kit on the first day of school.

She also did not appreciate being late for class.

The bathroom door opened and Rachel cursed her luck when she heard the tell-tale squeak of perfectly white tennis shoes. As it was with most of McKinley's royalty, one usually _heard_ them before seeing them.

She carefully avoided eye contact as they brushed past her, snickering.

"Something looks different, Berry," one of them – Santana – sneered. It didn't matter that Rachel and Santana had practically grown up together. She enjoyed poking fun at her mercilessly and viciously.

"What's different?" Brittany piped up.

Rachel chanced a glance at the third of the trio, Quinn, who was casually applying – or rather, re-applying – her make-up at the furthest sink.

"I don't know," Santana said, grinning at Rachel. She reached forward to flick a piece of slushie off Rachel's shoulder and into her cheek. "Is it your hair? No – it kind of looks as awful as ever – although, I see you're trying something new with the _wet dog_ look going on here."

Before Santana could continue, Quinn sighed loudly and braced herself on the edge of the sink. "Santana," she said quietly. "_Stop_."

Santana whirled around to glare at her. "Excuse me? Don't think I won't put you right at the bottom of the pyramid, Fabray. You're still considered the new kid on the squad, OK?"

Brittany pouted and tugged at Santana's arm. "Don't be mean to Rachel _and _Quinn," she pleaded.

By then, Rachel had stopped wringing her sweater out in the sink and was gaping at Quinn who had started nonchalantly washing her hands. She blinked as Santana shoved past them, tugging Brittany along and muttering about the perks of being head cheerleader.

Quinn glanced up to see Rachel staring – _ogling _– at her.

"What?" she asked, without a trace of malice or distaste. Rachel could've sworn that Quinn had just smiled at her. "Somebody's gotta keep her on a leash."

"I thought that was Brittany's job," Rachel retorted, then shoved her sweater against her mouth and tried not to look too terrified at what Quinn's reaction would be.

Quinn laughed - light and melodic to Rachel's ears.

"It is B's job," Quinn said, nodding in agreement. She shouldered her backpack and turned to Rachel almost shyly. "Hi, by the way. I'm Qui-"

"-Quinn Fabray. I know who you are." An eyebrow arched and Rachel forced herself not to run into the nearest stall. Quinn opened her mouth and Rachel rushed to say something. "I mean, it's just that everybody knows who you are. I know you just transferred here around the middle of last year and I guess you probably don't know _everybody_ here considering how popular – um, is that OK to say? – you are here, and…" Rachel trailed off and allowed her run-on sentence to hang in the air.

Quinn tilted her head, observing Rachel for a moment. "You ta-"

"-A lot," Rachel interrupted, then immediately clapped a hand over mouth. "Sorry," she whispered immediately.

Quinn blinked, then extended a hand. Rachel hastily and sloppily wiped her hand on her skirt and shook it. "I believe in proper introductions," Quinn said, smiling again. "Um, I didn't really catch your name in all of-" she waved a hand "-that. Unless your name _is _Berry." Quinn's intonation suggested that she was practicing a branch of sarcasm, or that she really did not care.

Rachel found herself wilting a little. She didn't have the heart to tell Quinn that they shared about three classes last year. "Rachel," she said. "Rachel Berry."

"That's a nice name," Quinn said, squeezing Rachel's hand once.

Rachel beamed, then struggled to keep her smile at a normal, human level when Quinn offered a tentative smile of her own.

A gold-star start for the first day of senior year.

And she was only very _slightly _saddened that she did not see Quinn for the rest of the day.

* * *

_It's the second day, _she thought exasperatedly. The mental vision of herself stomped her foot in aggravation.

Rachel quickly ducked into the nearest classroom when she spotted a throng of red and white. She swung the door until there was a tiny gap and peered through it hesitantly. She could see that the hallway had stopped its activities for the slushie-bearing football players, as each individual onlooker prayed that they would be exempt for _once_.

It wasn't Rachel's fault that she had called them out on their brutish behaviour and maybe she _could _have used some better words (although she thought she was rather correct in calling them pig-headed Neanderthals, although she was starting to suspect that the larger the word, the more offended they'd be).

Rachel exhaled once she saw them walk past. She couldn't risk another facial (her third of the day) as she had exhausted her back-up outfit as well as her back-up's back-up outfit. Exhaling noisily, she tentatively opened the door once more, as the hallway regained its usual buzz, indicating that the football players (and some cheerleaders) had moved on.

The moment she stepped outside, she immediately regretted it because she saw them heckling Jacob Ben Israel and she just _knew_-

"Where's Berry?"

"I don't know what y-you're talking about, Azimio. D-don't you h-ha-" He let out an ear-piercing shriek as they hoisted him higher. "She's right over there!"

Rachel was already rounding the corner of the hallway. She immediately cursed herself for thinking that the coast was clear. She should've known that the general population was going to sell her out, no matter how many pairs of new, unused underwear she bribed them with.

She collided with another being and was disgruntled when she looked up to see them still standing. "My apologies," she muttered. "I'm uh-" she paused, seeing that it was Quinn Fabray. "I'm very sorry, Quinn. If you'll excuse me, I've got to run – lots to do, you see." As an afterthought, and crossing her fingers behind her back, she added "Also, could you please not tell anybody I was here?"

She thought she saw a smile, or at least a smirk, then a nod, but that could've been her imagination because she ducked into yet _another _classroom. She huffed, opening it a tiny crack like before, and strained to listen. She hissed an apology as the teacher of the class occupying the room let out an indignant squawk.

"Quinn," they greeted. "Have you seen the little midget?"

Rachel saw the way Quinn glanced briefly at the door of the classroom and felt her heart sink into her stomach.

To her extreme surprise and befuddlement, Quinn shouldered her bag and peered up at them, feigning confusion. "Who?"

"That abomination that dresses like a toddler," came a new voice. Rachel rolled her eyes. _Santana_.

"Oh," Quinn said, as if that was the perfect description. Rachel tugged at her skirt self-consciously. "Hm, yeah," she drawled, getting their interest. "She was muttering something about going to the cafeteria. What are you planning to do?" she asked, eyeing their Big Gulps.

"She insulted us, and then – and then –"

Quinn looked mildly interested. "What'd she say?"

"She called us, um – well, it doesn't matter! We're gonna find her!"

Quinn nodded sagely. "Wouldn't want to miss her – she could be off school grounds by now."

And then they were gone, and just like that, Rachel Berry found herself slushie-free for what she hoped would be the rest of the day.

She hesitantly opened the door, ignoring the baffled murmuring of the class she had intruded on.

"Thank you," she said tentatively.

Quinn was still standing by her open locker, and turned a fraction to acknowledge Rachel with a nod of her head.

"Um, Quinn – am I allowed to call you that?"

"That's my name," she said dryly. "Am I allowed to call you Berry?"

"My name is Rachel, remember?" She sniffed. "I wonder how many people forget my name."

Quinn shrugged, seemingly uninterested. "A lot of names to remember at this school." She flashed a quick, dull smile. "Not like we'll remember once we get out of here, though, right?"

Rachel wondered what had happened to Quinn to make her demeanor change so drastically within the span of one day, but then again, this was _high school_.

"I guess." Rachel twiddled her thumbs and tilted her head curiously as Quinn continued rifling through her locker. She seemed to sense Rachel's eyes boring a hole into the side of her head, so she sighed and angled her body very slightly towards her.

"Do you need something?" she asked pleasantly.

Rachel wondered how she could find a proper Segway into what she really wanted to ask -"Why'd you lie for me? And yesterday – when you told Santana to stop," she blurted. _Nevermind about that segway_.

"Why not?" Quinn shrugged, and with those two words, Rachel found herself fascinated by the enigma that was Quinn Fabray. She turned away from her locker and faced Rachel. "I don't…" she gestured vaguely. "I don't do that stuff. It doesn't matter to me. I just really want to get through this year without any issues."

Rachel let out a whoosh of air. "Well, I must commend you on your remarkable outlook on all this. It's hard to find a cheerleader who _won't_ slushie me nowadays. I suppose it's safe to say that I am forever indebted to you."

Quinn looked as if she were amused, but Rachel was still unsure as how to read her emotions. "You could've just said thank you." Her lips twitched. "I think you did somewhere at the beginning of this conversation, though." She sighed as she glanced at her watch, then slumped.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked immediately.

Quinn looked at her warily, then back at her locker. "I can't find the novel and reference textbook I need for my first English class, and that starts in about two minutes…so I'm pretty much screwed." She sighed as if this was the worst thing that could happen to her.

And Rachel thought of herself as dramatic.

_Wait_. "AP?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't know you were in my class," Rachel blurted, followed by "I'll gladly share with you, if it's the least I could do considering you saved my life!"

Quinn regained some of her posture and swept over Rachel with her eyes. "I guess I'll be your…partner? Although I think Meyer's got a couple extra novels, but I'm not going to say no to sharing that textbook."

As they walked to class, Quinn muttered "By the way, I didn't actually save your life. Stop saying that."

The class passed by quickly and pleasantly. Rachel _tried_ not to lean too close to Quinn or encroach on her personal space, because she was aware that personal space probably meant a lot to people like Quinn Fabray.

After class, Rachel hovered by Quinn's side as the girl packed her bag carefully. "Thank you for waiting," Quinn said mildly. "What do you have now?"

"Lunch," Rachel responded. She couldn't help but smile. "I can't believe I didn't know you took this class," Rachel said cheerfully. Quinn nodded and allowed Rachel to hold open the door for her. "I mean, it'll be nice to finally have somebody who can keep up with me academically."

Quinn smiled wide enough for it to be considered a grin. "Who said I was keeping up with you?"

"Well, I mean maybe you're lacking my diligence and hard-work but I'm sure I could bring you up to speed."

"What I meant to say was, who said that it's not actually _you _who needs to be keeping up with me?"

Rachel gaped, then noticed the way Quinn's smile had widened just a bit more. "Oh – I see, you're making a joke."

Quinn shrugged and that riled Rachel up. "Are you insinuating that you're of a higher intelligence than I am?"

"I'm not insinuating anything," Quinn said sweetly, the insult barely registering in Rachel's head.

Before she could say anymore, they had reached the cafeteria and Quinn was being summoned by her cheerleader friends (who were all staring at Rachel strangely).

Quinn didn't seem to notice – or care – and she turned to Rachel, nodding her head towards the table. "Are you coming?"

"I – hm –" Rachel coughed once. "-I don't think it would be prudent for me to share a table with you and your – your friends." She nodded brusquely. "Thank you, though."

Quinn looked confused for a moment, but it was fleeting. She then shrugged and smiled again before striding over to the well-known 'popular' table.

Then Rachel was standing alone once again and for the first time, it stung more than usual.

* * *

_Dear Barbra,_

_Another eventful day. I cannot wait for the day that my memoir hits #1 on the NYT Bestsellers' list. That'll show them._

_I'm rather saddened by the fact that Kurt and I share a class only every other day, and he's been MIA for lunch due to the fact that he goes off campus for lunch with his not-so-secret boyfriend, Blaine Warbler. This appears to what he's going to be doing for the rest of the year. He really should not be making out in obvious places if he wishes to not get caught. Hm, what else. Another friendly face would be Finn, but he's only in my pre-calc class as there's no way that he would be able to attend the rest of my AP classes._

_I've found that the strangest thing has happened to me. It isn't such a chore to go to school (then again, it is only the second night in) because I've found a potential new friend (frenemy?) in Quinn Fabray._

_She's such an interesting character. I'm riveted by the way she doesn't seem to care about social norms._

_And Glee is going to be starting up soon, so that's something else to look forward to. I do enjoy fixing things up and whipping them back into shape._

_Overall-_

Rachel gave a start as her phone rang and she quickly shut her journal before stuffing it into her drawer. She sighed, answering the phone, fully prepared to ward off any telemarketers, but she couldn't help but hope that it was somebody actually wishing to speak with her.

"Hello sir or madam, could we interest you in-"

"-No, thank you. Could you kindly remove this number from your list of what I assume to be a bunch of innocent people, whose lives you're set on disrupting?"

"I-"

"-Goodnight."

She sighed and pulled out her journal again.

_Overall_, she continued. _I'm just glad that there's a possibility I won't be lonely anymore. I'll keep you updated, Barbra._

* * *

Rachel found that while Quinn had the tendency to be sharp-tongued, she was, overall, a good-natured person. She wondered if Quinn had an actual sense of humour (beyond sarcasm and Rachel did not consider that a sense of humour).

Quinn learned that Rachel enjoyed talking almost excessively, but she also learned that she didn't mind listening. Rachel was interesting and endearing and everything that Quinn enjoyed._  
_

They decided that they would benefit from sitting next to each other in their AP English class. Rachel found that the blonde paid rapt attention and sat up even straighter than Rachel herself did.

In fact, Rachel had noticed that Quinn had an impeccable posture and found herself vaguely wondering how the girl slept at night.

Quinn Fabray was _fascinating_.

"Did you say something?" Quinn whispered, meticulously erasing a misspelled word.

"I - um, what did you hear, if I may ask?"

"You whispered the word 'fascinating' and you sounded truly _fascinated _by whatever it was that you deemed able to fascinate you_._" Quinn's half smile and raised eyebrow did things to Rachel that she wasn't aware a half-smile and raised eyebrow could do.

"You just used the word 'fascinate' in three different forms. I'm not sure whether I should be impressed, intimidated, or amused."

Quinn frowned at Rachel, looking at her with a serious expression. "You couldn't use three words that started with an 'I'? Rachel Berry, I am disappointed."

Rachel gaped, at a loss of words – a rare occurrence.

Quinn looked fleetingly triumphant before she shrugged and turned her eyes back down to the paper. "I was just curious, by the way. You don't have to divulge you deepest, _fascinating_ thoughts."

"Oh," Rachel said eloquently and then turned to focus back on her paper. She was supposed to writing a reflection piece on the book they had just wrapped up.

"So what was it?"

"Quinn, _please_, I'm trying to write," she said, pretending to be annoyed, but she offered a slight smile to let the girl know she was joking. She did however, stifle a mildly frustrated sigh upon seeing that Quinn had already written an entire page compared to her mediocre half a page.

She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle, but when she chanced a peek, Quinn's face was as impassive as usual.

* * *

At the first lunch Rachel managed to snag with Kurt, she sat him down forcefully.

"Uh oh," Kurt said, his smile widening into a Cheshire grin. "I know that look. There's a _boy_, isn't there?"

"No," Rachel said. "There's no romantic interest," she said hastily. She saw Kurt's eyebrow arch in a way that said that he did _not _believe her, so she quickly tacked on "And no boy."

Kurt sat back, slightly disgruntled. "I fail to see why this warranted a nine-one-one, Rachel." He eyed her outfit. "Unless you finally came to your senses and are willing to take me up on that makeover I've been offering to you."

"I'm friends with Quinn Fabray," she blurted. "I'm friends with her – and I think she might consider me a friend of hers."

"Cheerleader Quinn Fabray?" Kurt said in surprise.

"That would be the one," Rachel said, nodding.

Kurt looked both suspicious and curious. "Bottle blonde, green eyes?" he asked, locking his eyes onto Rachel's face.

"Excuse me – I'm pretty sure it's natural. Also, Hazel," Rachel corrected immediately and instinctively.

Kurt looked strangely triumphant. "You're totally in lesbians with her."

Rachel was baffled. "First off, Kurt Hummel, you did _not _just quote what was arguably an extremely silly movie to me. Secondly, that makes no sense – to be in lesbians with somebody. What does that even entail? I am not in _lesbians_ with Quinn Fabray."

Kurt's Cheshire grin from earlier had turned into a plain shit-eating one. Rachel scowled. "Stop that," she snapped.

"What? Rachel – this is _golden_. You called an emergency meeting for some reason and now that I see it _isn't _Glee, you're going to sit here and tell me what it is about Quinn Fabray that has your panties in a twist-" he looked positively delighted (and maybe slightly disgusted) "-or maybe _untwisted_-"

"KURT!"

"Admit it," he said smugly. "You're obsessed, Rachel."

"Kindly refrain from saying that, Kurt. I am _not_. I barely even know her and she probably forgets my name like _all _the time. We've only known each other for two weeks."

"_Rachel._" He waved his hand around. "It's OK to have a not-just-a-lady-crush-but-a-crush-crush on Quinn Fabray. She seems like an extremely nice girl."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"And she doesn't just tolerate you – she apparently seeks your friendship."

Rachel flushed. "Not in so many words, I suppose. We share AP English, and um, she might have invited me to sit with her one time."

"Exciting."

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Kurt Hummel."

"Look – this is a good thing. Honestly, in another life, Quinn would probably be tossing slushies at you and she'd be dating one of those losers, but the fact that she actually _defends _people like us –"

"- Like us? What -"

"- Don't pretend like we're at a visible point on the social ladder, Rachel. As I was saying, you have a _shot_."

"A shot at what?" Rachel questioned miserably. "We're hardly close. And I'm not even gay," she whispered as an afterthought. "How can I be in lesbians with her?"

Kurt slid forward and rested both his hands on her shoulders. It surprised him how easily Rachel had caved. "We'll figure something out. The last thing you need to do right now though, is suffer a bout of gay panic. Should we have a movie night?"

"…As long as we're not watching that horrific movie."

* * *

Mostly, Rachel tried to force herself to stop thinking about Quinn Fabray, but once that failed exceptionally, Rachel started thinking about how unusual it was that she slipped past Rachel's radar. Rachel was so used to be the one doing the 'slipping' that it unnerved her to no end that Quinn was better at hiding than she was.

Her greatest surprise came when Quinn found a way to infiltrate yet _another _aspect of her life.

Rachel was on the way to the choir room because she promised Mr. Schuester she'd transpose some parts for a few members of their choir who were definitely _not _meant to sing lead. The thought of his incompetence aggravated her and she huffed, willing herself not to stomp.

She slowed down as the most beautiful sound wafted through the air. She deduced it was coming from the choir room and it was in fact the slightly out of tune piano and that it was being _used_.

Rachel wasn't used to other people being in the choir room, especially during lunchtime, which was why she considered somewhat of a safe haven. She had never been slushied there in the past three years of attending this school, so she bristled a little at somebody using her _home_.

The playing stopped and the piano bench scraped the floor before the music started up again, this time faster and louder, but still the same melody.

She frowned and opened the door once her curiosity became overwhelming.

"Quinn?" she questioned.

Quinn twisted on the piano bench, a frown gracing her features before she relaxed upon seeing it was Rachel. "Rachel," she said easily. "Hi."

Two words and Rachel flushed. "You play the piano?" she questioned. "Are you musically inclined?" she all but demanded.

"Maybe," Quinn teased. "Are you?"

"It's like you don't even know me," Rachel teased right back (but was Quinn serious? Because Rachel would definitely need to fix that situation). Quinn fell strangely quiet and it unnerved Rachel to no end. She cleared her throat. "What were you playing? It was beautiful."

"Thank you," Quinn said quietly. "It was just something I remember playing a couple years ago. The name evades me, but I'll let you know if I ever find the sheet music. Do you play?" she asked, lowering her eyes back to the piano.

Rachel was so delighted upon discovering a shy, bashful side to Quinn that she didn't completely register the question.

"Do you?" Quinn prodded, looking back up and startling Rachel out of her trance.

"Oh! Well, I'm more partial to singing because my voice is my greatest talent, but I dabble in all forms of the arts, so yes, I do play a little bit."

"Anything good?" Quinn asked.

Rachel was offended. "I'll have you know that I don't half-ass anything."

Quinn seemed surprised at that outburst. "Oh – sorry, I guess. I, um, anything that I would know?"

Rachel sighed and bumped Quinn's shoulder with her hip, indicating that she wanted to share the bench. Quinn looked up confusedly. "Please scoot over, Quinn. I'd like to sit down as well."

Quinn looked as if this was a foreign concept to her, but she did so nonetheless.

They sat shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh and Rachel marvelled over the fact that it definitely was not the most uncomfortable experience ever.

"Well, play," Quinn said, her voice soft and smooth in Rachel's ear. Rachel jumped, Quinn folded her hands neatly across her lap.

"I mostly play songs that I hear on the radio," Rachel admitted. "Or Broadway classics. A lot of this is by ear, so I apologize ahead of time if my technique is not quite up to par."

"I'm sure it's not half-assed," Quinn quipped.

Rachel chose to ignore that and settled her fingers on the keys. She paused momentarily, gathering her wits so she wouldn't embarrass herself horrifically and then let loose.

She lost herself momentarily before she felt Quinn shift almost imperceptibly closer to her, and then her chin was hovering right by Rachel's shoulder. "I love _Titanium_," she said.

Rachel's airway closed up and she fell off the bench.

Well, no she didn't, but that's what it felt like because Quinn's voice and proximity hit her like a two-by-four across the chest.

Quinn was still speaking though. "-This is far off from _Broadway Classics_," she said and Rachel almost couldn't handle the teasing lilt.

Quinn turned slightly to observe Rachel's face and was surprised to see how ashen the girl was. She put her hand over Rachel's, stopping her playing (and she tried to ignore how small and warm Rachel's hand was). "Are you alright?" she asked, alarmed. "Are you even breathing?"

Rachel seemed to snap back to reality and focused intently on a spot on the piano. "Oh – I – I sometimes get really intense about the things I'm passionate about."

"I see," Quinn said quietly. "You don't look that great right now."

"I tend to, um, what's the cliché – lose myself in the music," she said honestly. "It's really not a big deal."

Quinn's features softened and she slackened her grip. "I know what you mean." She sighed and settled her hands back on the piano. Rachel graciously removed her own from the surface. "It's easy to do that."

She settled on playing the hauntingly beautiful song again and Rachel itched to do _something _- her strongest urge was to _touch _Quinn, but she knew how wildly inappropriate and socially unacceptable that would be.

_Or would it?_

Quinn stopped abruptly and turned to Rachel. "I should go."

"Oh, are you sure?"

Quinn nodded, and slid off the bench. "I have class." She tilted her head towards the clock mounted above the door and Rachel saw that class was going to begin in about two minutes. "Chemistry," Quinn added, as if she thought Rachel didn't believe her (she was right).

Rachel sat dazed for a moment, her hand feeling strangely light and _useless _without Quinn's hand on top of it. The music echoed through Rachel's mind, twisting and turning until it embedded itself deep within the crevices of her brain and that's when she knew she was completely _screwed_.

She stood up dazedly, just as the door to the choir room burst open and a giggle tangle of bodies stumbled in.

"San – mmph – stop it –"

"–Why?" Santana whined (_whined?_ Rachel thought) petulantly (_petulantly?_). "Don't you want to know what my hands can do?"

"Because I don't think Rachel wants to see exactly what your talented hands can do," Brittany said seriously.

"_Who_? Rachel-" Santana whirled around and caught sight of Rachel standing there blankly. "_Berry_," she hissed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Didn't Quinn just leave?" Brittany questioned curiously.

Santana seemed to ignore that. "Could you kindly leave our presence?" Santana snarled. "You're kind of a huge turn-off and as much as I'd love to release Snix on you, I'd love to be doing other things."

"Who's _Snix_?" Rachel blurted.

"Quinn and Rachel are friends now," Brittany said disapprovingly. "I think you should be a little nicer."

Santana latched onto that and narrowed her eyes dangerously at Rachel. "Oh, don't think I haven't noticed. I've seen the way that you've sunk your talons into Q, hobbit. You're not fooling anybody. I have you all figured out."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Rachel squeaked, eyes widening when Brittany clapped her hands excitedly.

"I'm watching you," Santana said nastily. "Come on, B. We're leaving."

"I thought we were staying…"

Rachel's brow furrowed as she tried to process exactly what just happened.

"Later Hobbit" were Santana's parting words. Alone once more, Rachel glared at the door before stomping over to her backpack to retrieve her sheet music.

Obviously singing would take her mind off things.

* * *

_Don't worry Rachel, nobody blames you for liking Quinn Fabray!_

_(oh yeah this is the end of the chapter, in case you thought this was a continuation of Rachel's thoughts)_


End file.
